


that's my boy

by scarebeast



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Hell, Implied Torture, POV Second Person, Purgatory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-10
Updated: 2012-11-10
Packaged: 2017-11-18 09:10:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/559294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarebeast/pseuds/scarebeast
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He shouldn't even be here to begin with, unless somehow, he became the same kind of monster he tried so hard to fight. You know that he was already that monster, that you carved the humanity right out of him in the pit, but you also know how well he can lie to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	that's my boy

You’re surprised when you come across him. Purgatory is massive, never ending in every direction, infinite in ways that one could never begin to comprehend. He shouldn’t even be here to begin with, unless somehow, he became the same kind of monster he tried so hard to fight. You know that he was already that monster, that you carved the humanity right out of him in the pit, but you also know how well he can lie to himself.

But no. Not quite. His soul is human, tainted and tattered and scorched with betrayal and guilt. Human, nevertheless. Human enough that he shouldn’t be in this place.

You see him first and manage to slip into the shadows. It’s easy to go undetected here, with the trees shadowing the earth and the dim cast of impossible light. He’s already fashioned himself a weapon, something sharp and deadly, and your insides curl warm with pride.

You wait to see what he’s going to do with the wraith that’s lying in wait for him a few feet ahead, and almost give up your position when a delighted sound rips from your chest at the sight of him pinning the wraith against he tree He is curling the tip of his blade into its chest almost delicately, growling something at it. You’re glad to see he hasn’t lost his touch, hasn’t forgotten the things you taught him. Not that he ever _could_ forget you though. You’ve made sure of that.

You stole your way into his soul so very long ago and you’re still there, spinning thick, black spiderwebs of corruption in that hollowed out husk that he calls a body. You’re sure that not a day goes by that he doesn’t think about you.

You watch a little longer, trying to hear what he’s asking the wraith, because this is interrogation, through and through, the slow drag of the blade against the wraith’s skin is a warning of a deeper pain if Dean doesn’t get what he wants. You’re too far away though, and he takes off the wraith’s head just a few minutes after catching it.

You’re almost disappointed, but now that you know he’s here, you’re never letting him out of your sight again. Soon, you’ll reveal yourself to him, but only after whispers of your presence start to reach him, only after you become the _only_ thing he thinks about again.

You will watch and you will wait, because you have always known that your boy would come back to you.


End file.
